


Heroes Can Be Found In The Most Unlikely Places

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:49:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16031420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: A rundown farm in the middle of nowhere, perhaps not the likeliest place to find heroes.  Yet, in looking back over the whole messy episode, it was obvious - heroes there had been, heroes and heroines working together to thwart the devious plot put into play by the villians.  And Garrison noted one additional thing - having an ace in the hole can be great when it's just your side having that advantage, but it becomes a little more problematic when all sides involved have one.War years.





	Heroes Can Be Found In The Most Unlikely Places

Six mangy horses in the ramshackle barn, the care of which was part of the bargain for taking over this farm temporarily, along with a large rough-coated dog who looked like she was more than willing to chew on them.

"They don't like us much, Lieutenant," the complaint came from the disgruntled safecracker forking hay into the feed boxes.

Well, Garrison couldn't disagree. He wasn't sure if Casino was talking about the horses or the ones up at HQ who'd developed this so-called plan, but it seemed equally apt, whichever. At least the horses were more honest about it, snapping and stamping their feet when the men got anywhere near them, not hiding behind those patently false smiles he'd faced during that meeting in London. The dog, perhaps part collie, maybe mixed with some Shetland sheepdog, certainly mixed with a few other things, was equally plain in her opinion of their presence, slinking off around the corner whenever she caught sight of them; that is, when she wasn't slinking closer and baring her teeth in warning. 

"Tell us again, Warden, just why we're here? I dont get it," Chief said with a frown.

Actor spoke up, "I must agree, Craig. Oh, I understand the basic premise, trying to draw the gang into a trap by posing as a renegade unit, available for any number of nefarious operations. That would work for us. But no one would believe you abandoned your career, joined with us willingly on a life of crime, and if you did, surely we would have made our move while we were in Europe, not here in England. Yet, here you are. Why would we have brought you with us? Are you a hostage, an unwilling source of information? Do we intend to get some revenge for your past actions? We need to know that, have a believable scenario before we are approached; that is, IF we are approached."

"Oh, HQ seems sure we'll be approached; at least one of the gang likes bragging to the local barmaid, and SHE listens, before she reports back to her brother up at HQ, who goes running to Bentley right away. And Bentley was quite clear, I am supposed to be here willingly, acting as the brains behind the operation; it seems he doesn't have quite the same positive view of my reputation as you have," Craig Garrison replied in a dry tone.

"But why out 'ere, in the middle of ruddy nowhere?" Goniff complained. "Coulda done the same thing back in London, at least someplace with people around, someplace to get a drink and such."

"Bentley claims it's so no innocent civilians get caught up in this by accident. There are no close neighbors, the owner is an unfriendly sort, makes a point of not wanting any visitors. No one is going to be out here accidentally, so if anyone shows up, it'll be the bad guys."

Casino grouched, "yeah, right. They just wanna be sure we dont 'accidentally' have any fun, that's what it is."

Garrison hid a reluctant smile, knowing that was probably at least part of the decision-making process. 

"Actually, I think it's that Bentley's wife's cousin owns this place, so he knew he could get cooperation without having to do a lot of explaining."

"So, where is this cousin? Why isn't 'e 'ere, taking care of those ruddy 'orses and the dog? Coulda just pretended we'd paid 'im to 'ide out 'ere," Goniff asked fretfully, trying to wipe the sticky mess off his shirt from where one of the horses had expressed his opinion of Goniff's presence; he wasn't having any more luck with that than his earlier attempts to remove the OTHER signs of his most recent foray into horse-tending.

"Bentley says his wife didn't want to take a chance on the old man getting hurt; he may be the surly type, but he's still family. Bentley arranged for him to 'win' a holiday, so he's off at a guest house in Bath." 

"While we're here wipin off horse slobber," Chief said, his tone expressing just how little he thought of the whole experience; he'd had his turn with the horses yesterday, and wasn't any more pleased with the experience than Goniff appeared to be. He'd turned them out into the rickety railed enclosure to let them get some exercise, like they'd done each day, but last evening getting them back in the barn had proven difficult enough he'd just given up, let them spend the mild night out there. 

This morning they'd seemed energized by the experience, enough that the big grey mare had taken a run at Goniff when he was dumping in the hay, bumping him with her shoulder, sending the small man flying. The bay had added insult to injury by trotting up to stand over him, stamping his feet and snapping while Goniff frantically scooted backwards trying to stay out of reach. The final straw, to hear the Englishman tell it, was when the little spotted one had stood over him and snorted, slobbering all over him.

"Laughing at me, 'e was; didn't make no bones about it neither!! Your turn next, Casino; I aint gonna go in there again today," he swore.

"ME??! How about we let Beautiful take the next turn; maybe he can sweet talk em," Casino snorted in derision.

"I hardly think anyone who might be watching would expect ME to be taking care of the livestock, Casino. I'm sure it would totally ruin our cover," Actor told them, his expression about what they'd expect to see, amused superiority.

Garrison smiled, but firmly announced, "Goniff, the horses are your responsibility for today; Casino's on for tomorrow. Just stay out of their reach. And go change your clothes and wash up; from the smell, that's not just mud you've got smeared all over you!"

Muttering to himself the wiry Englishman slumped off to do just that.

"Ruddy damn 'orses!," and as if in answer, a low growl from the hallway confirmed he wasn't too popular with the rest of the livestock either. "Ruddy damn dog!!" The men down below laughed when they heard that door slam as Goniff took out his displeasure on it.

There was no one in the hall to see the startled look on the big dog's face; that was the first time any of these men has actually called her by her name! What did that mean? She lay down, head on her paws, to think it over.

It was a full four days before the approach was made, though they'd felt someone watching almost from the beginning. They'd posted one man on guard at all times, of course; anyone watching would have expected that, wouldn't be suspicious. 

"Got someone comin in, Warden," Chief announced quietly from the front porch rocking chair. They moved to the windows, cautiously, just in case they were being approached by more than one direction. But it was just the front lane, a single car driving slowly, trying to avoid the deep ruts and potholes that seemed to make up the majority of its surface.

The driver and his sole passenger seemed equally cautious crossing the scruffy grass to the front porch, keeping a close eye on their surroundings, but that was nothing compared to the caution they expressed in approaching Craig Garrison. Not an all-out proposition, but just a feeling out of the situation. It was a brief meeting, then the two made their way to the car and were gone.

"They'll be back, once they check out our story," Garrison said.

Actor nodded, "yes, they gave every indication of it."

"Well, I 'ope they ruddy well 'urry! Less dangerous letting the Krauts shoot at us than 'anging around 'ere!" Goniff had taken stock of his various bruises and aches and pains, his rapidly dwindling wardrobe, and wasn't favorably impressed. Casino was in pretty much the same shape, though Chief had gotten better at figuring out how the horses would act and react and had escaped any real damage. 

Day five, the morning sun coming through the window drawing a groan from the Englishman; the beds weren't any more comfortable here than the cots back at the Mansion, maybe even less so. He opened his eyes just a sliver, then widened them in alarm at the face just an inch or two from his. A soft snore, then big dark eyes opened, and a wet tongue slurped across his face.

"Ruddy 'ell! Don't do that!" he muttered, wrinkling up his nose. "Told you you could sleep in my room, not in my bed!" he scolded quietly; the gentle thud of that long tail and another wipe of that wet tongue showed his scolding had been taken for words of endearment.

The dog had shown up at Goniff's door when he'd been headed to bed, hadn't growled or snarled for once, just sat there looking at him cautiously, hopefully, and after a quick look around to be sure no one spotted him, he'd reluctantly let the creature follow him in. He'd laid out the rules right then and there.

"Alright then, Sybil. That's w'at I'm gonna call you; can't keep calling you 'dog'. 'Ad a great-aunt Sybil; looked more'n a bit like you, to tell the truth. Now you listen. If I let you stay, you gotta be quiet. You don't pee in the corners, or anything else neither. You don't chew on nothing. You sleep on that rug over there. And you don't tell ANYONE about this, understand??!"

Well, at least the dog had listened to PART of that! And she hadn't had to tell anyone anything, not when Goniff made his way downstairs with the dog only one step behind him, not after she sat beside his chair, her rough head across his thigh, that tail waving the whole time. The whole impression was one of adoration on the dog's part, which only increased when he slipped her a bite of his toast.

The only comment came from Casino, "hey, Limey. Don't know Meghada's gonna like you takin up with another girl," drawing a variety of snorts from the other men.

Goniff flushed, but then gave an embarrassed smile, "this 'ere is Sybil; seems she's decided she likes me."

"Yes, Goniff, we can see that," Actor remarked, hiding a smile of his own.

Nothing from the men on days five or six, but one week into the 'life on the farm' experience, that same car made its cautious way up that pitiful excuse for a road. This time there were three of them, one carrying a briefcase, which along with their suits made them look highly out of place on this rundown farmstead.

"They look like bankers, Craig," Actor observed, and Garrison agreed. From the sound of the pitch from the lead guy, they just COULD have been, especially since the proposed target was the Middleton bank, a moderate-sized rural bank but one surprisingly rich in assets, at least at certain times.

"They're ambitious, I'll say that for them. Not just the mine payroll for this whole area, but the safety deposit boxes as well. Supposedly some of the well-to-do's up in the city decided a country bank would be safer from bombing than the ones in London; if that list they have is any indication, there's some pretty expensive stuff in there." 

Goniff listened, frowning, "don't make a lotta sense, Warden. They got the list, they got the blueprints, combination to the big safe, know where the key ring is for the boxes, the work schedule for all the workers; they got it all, laid out nice and sweet. W'at do they need us for?"

Chief had been worrying that over in his own mind, and it made perfect sense to him. "They need us to take the fall, Goniff."

That garnered him startled looks from around the table, and then frowns of dawning comprehension.

Garrison motioned, "go on, Chief."

"Goniff's right - they got all that, everything you'd need; that's their problem - they got TOO much. Probably no secret either who'd be the ones to have access. Bet at least one of them works there, maybe pretty high up. They go after it themselves, cops gonna look long and hard for someone on the inside. This way, they let us do the job, probably arrange to have us spotted so we can be described. Hell, probably one of them will do that personally, maybe the top guy. Then, they doublecross us, take the goods, they get away clean."

Casino was listening, deep frown on his face. "That's saying we'd be dumb enough to LET them double-cross us, take the goods. Sides, they think we wouldn't squawk, tell the whole thing??"

Garrison had been thinking as his men worried it through, and now he nodded, "yeah, they think we're dumb enough; I bet the same people who put our side of the plan in motion emphasized that. You're cons, I'm an officer who decided to put in with you, flushing his career away; we'd be the perfect fall guys. As for our talking, . . ."

Actor looked exceedingly grim, "I imagine they don't intend to leave any of us alive to talk. Will you report all of this back to Bentley, Craig? If any of this goes wrong, it would be good to have someone on our side willing to support our story." 

Garrison started to nod, but then stopped, noting the dark brooding look on Chief's face even before the Indian shook his head in firm disagreement with that idea.

"Chief? Something else?"

"Just thinking, Warden. We sure this isn't even more of a set-up, maybe from both sides? Seems awful convenient to me. These guys, they just happen to find about this bank, have everything we'd need to pull off a job like that. Guy on the inside just happens to talk too much to a girl who just happens to have a brother at HQ, who just happens to know Bentley who just happens to know enough about us to know we've got the skills for a job like that and a bad rep. Bentley's wife's cousin just happens to have a place we can hide out, near that haul just waitin to be snatched. Ya gotta wonder, ya know?"

Garrison felt a cold chill at the implications. "Yes, you do have to wonder, don't you. On our side, it's a sting operation. On theirs - is it straight, a double-cross, or is it maybe a triple-cross??!"

The job was planned for a week out, the night after the mine payroll was to be delivered, before any of it could be disbursed. A week to get their plans in order - both of them, along with some contingency arrangements.

Figuring there was a good chance the battered phone had been bugged, maybe could even trace the recipient of any outgoing calls, especially if Chief's theory about Bentley was accurate, Garrison took the opportunity to take a run to town - not the closest one, but one a little further afield, supposedly to replace Goniff's tattered wardrobe and gather some much-needed groceries. Well, that needed to be done anyway, they'd used the last eggs and bread at breakfast, and no one taking a look at the smaller man would have questioned the necessity for some new clothes; the ones off any scarecrow in the fields would have been in better shape.

If anyone was following along, and there might have been, he'd have seen Goniff sneak over to the phone, make a call. If he'd gotten close enough, and he did, he'd have heard only a love-sick fool trying to convince his girl that he hadn't just walked out on her, that he was coming back real soon.

"Ei, Meggie! Mark my words, I'll be back afore you know it! And with enough in my pocket to buy you that pretty pink dress you've been wanting!"

They'd have listened with more than a little amused contempt while he cautioned her about trusting that 'Alywishus' bloke, reminding her of what must have been a prime example of that guy's sneaky ways.

"YOU know 'ow much 'e can be trusted! YOU remember, Meggie, that stunt 'e tried to pull back in July, 'im and those other fellas! Double-crossing weasel, that's w'at I think! A trusting little thing like you, e'd try to pull a fast one if you give 'im the time of day! No telling w'at 'e'd try to con you into! 'E tries anything on, you just back-up, right fast, you 'ear me??!"

There was more, quite a bit more, but certainly nothing for the listener to be concerned about. Finally, at a sharp exasperated summons from Garrison, the pouting Cockney hung up the phone.

"You didn't tell her where we are, did you? And why call from here, why not from the house?" Garrison demanded.

"Course I didn't tell 'er nothing bout w'ere we are. Didn't want to call from the 'ouse, though; didn't want Casino to 'ear me, figuring out Meggie's a little pissed at me right now. Been eyeing 'er 'imself, I think; don't want to give 'im any more ideas. Ain't stupid, you know!"

The listener refrained from laughing out loud; from that whole conversation, he had formed a rather different opinion of the little man.

They might not have been so amused if they could have seen the recipient of that phone call, working her way over that notepad, right from that first "Ei, Meggie - Mark my words!", through all of the words and phrases to the meaning below. A fast call had a Friend doing some quick research, relaying the information back within the hour. Another couple of calls, one to 'that Alywishus bloke', also known as Major Kevin Aloysius Richards (whom she DID know right well how much he could be trusted), a quick change of clothes and gathering of weapons, and she was out and gone.

{"Backup, right fast, he said. Well, we'll see if I can't arrange just that little thing,"} she snarled to herself. For him to have resorted to all that double-talk, he had to have believed he was being overheard; for him to have called her at all while out on assignment, that meant he, the team were in serious trouble. 

Chief had finished throwing hay over the fence, pumping more water to pour into the horse trough. After Goniff's go-around with the horses, they'd kept their distance, working over the fence as much as possible; they didn't even try to put the horses back in their stalls anymore. Now he leaned against the fence, watching in amusement as Goniff tried to show Casino how to juggle those apples from the tree out back.

"Come on, Casino! It's easy! Just gotta get the rhythm going, like this." Casino had tried, got things going really good with two apples, but the third one wouldn't cooperate. He glared at the smirking Cockney now managing four, then five apples.

"Alright! I'll give it another try," he growled, and this time got three going at a fair clip, only to lose control and have one of them go wild and roll under the rail into the corral. The tall grey mare had watched it roll towards her, took a cautious look at the men, and slowly walked forward, picked it up and ate it with apparent relish.

"Hey, Goniff! She's eating your snack," Casino laughed, only to get a nonchalant, "that's alright. Don't much care for apples, Casino. Better 'er than me. Pears, now that's a different story; good eating, but not so easy to juggle."

He did walk closer to the railing, and gently tossed another apple toward the other five horses, having it land just a few feet in front of them. The spotted one that had laughed at him, came forward, picked it up and chomped down.

By the time Garrison and Actor came out to find out what was keeping the men, Goniff was perched on that top railing, the other two men leaning alongside, feeding the remaining apples to six appreciative horses crowded around in front of them. It might not be friendship, not yet, but it was at least detente.

Casino was on midnight guard duty when he felt the presence off to his left. He started to tense, then recognized the faint whisper, and relaxed again. Without turning his head, he said in a low voice, "figured you'd be showin up soon. Anyone spot you?"

"No, they have a man at the end of the road, but no one elsewhere. I circled around, came in low."

He nodded, "best get some sleep; Warden'll fill you in in the morning. Goniff's in the last room upstairs," he started to say, then his wicked side got the better of him, and he quickly added, "but you'd be better off using my room, probably, first to the right of the stairs. Sybil might be in there with him."

A long pause, "Sybil?" and the tone was carefully neutral.

"Yeah, she lives here. She and Goniff seem to have gotten real, well, cozy, I guess you'd say." He glanced over in her direction, seeing the slow nod.

"See you in the morning, Casino."

He chuckled to himself, listening to see if he could hear anything from inside, picturing the scene when Meghada opened that bedroom door; he'd been the one to walk in a couple of nights ago to wake Goniff for guard duty, only to see the two of them curled up on the bed together sound asleep. He was surprised when he heard nothing, but not nearly as surprised when he walked back into the house at dawn, to see Meghada curled up on the lumpy horsehair sofa under a musty blanket.

"Got in round midnight??! But why didn't you come on up? Casino knew which room I was in. Bed aint much but it's better than that old couch," Goniff wanted to know.

Meghada was focusing on her coffee, gave a one-shouldered shrug, not letting her eyes drift anywhere else; "he told me, yes. But he said you might not be alone and I didn't want to intrude."

Goniff frowned, puzzled, looked over at Casino, who was trying to pretend he just wasn't there. "Just who did 'e say might be in there with me?"

"Sybil, he said. He said you and she had gotten rather close since you've been here."

Goniff's look of bewilderment turned to sheer indignant annoyance. "Ruddy 'ell, Casino!!"

Casino was feeling a little guilty by now; with the life they all led, any personal time was something they all valued highly. Now, through his foolishness, he'd shortchanged his buddy and his lady out of a few precious hours together.

"Didn't think she'd sleep on the sofa; figured she'd go checking things out, maybe wanting to have a few words with Sybil, ya know? Figured it'd be funny."

Goniff snarled at him, then shook himself as if to clear away all the nonsense.

"Better introduce you then. 'Gaida, this 'ere's Sybil," and at hearing her new name spoken by her new friend, the big dog ambled forward to lay her head on his knee. The glare Casino had gotten from Goniff was nothing compared to the one he now got from the redhead, before she turned her face back to Goniff and his companion.

"Sybil. That's a pretty name. So you've become friends with my laddie, then," her voice gentle as she smiled down at the rough-coated dog. An offering of a bit of egg on toast cemented the start of another new friendship; that the egg and toast had come from Casino's plate only seemed fair.

She stayed out of sight, not venturing to the yard or barn, though watching with amusement through a barely parted curtain as the men interacted with the horses. She'd heard the stories about those first few days, then how the horses had been won over by a bag of apples. Now, whoever was in charge of the feeding had the whole lot of them trailing him around, more often than not getting some tidbit pulled of a pocket.

"Graycie, Spots, Baylee, Twister, FancyPants, Ben - they named them all, bless their hearts!"

Graycie, the big grey mare; well, that made sense. Spots was obvious; Baylee for the bay gelding. Twister had an odd kink to his tail. FancyPants had odd coloration, grey most everywhere, but the grey turning to speckles on his hindquarters and rear legs. Ben was the one she couldn't figure out, til Garrison explained the light circles around the dark horse's eyes - then she could picture it, the illusion of spectacles, and had to laugh. "Ben Franklin, yes I see the resemblance."

She'd listened, from a convenient hiding place, with a great deal of interest when the three men had returned, going over the final plans, coordinating a time for them all to meet up back here at the farmhouse. After watching them drive away, she'd reholstered her pistol that she'd kept at the ready, just in case, and joined the others. Chief stayed by the window, just to be sure none of the three sneaked back, but that didn't happen.

"So, I heard how it's SUPPOSED to work; what do you think is really most likely to happen?" she'd asked, and nodded in agreement at Garrison's take on things.

"Aye, that makes sense. Time enough for you to get back here with the goods, but well before you would be expecting them. Not enough time for you to decide to double-cross them and leave with everything. And coming in early, hopefully catching you off-guard and unprepared to defend yourselves."

She frowned, "of course, they could also send in men right after you left, have them in waiting here for when you get back. It depends on just how many are involved in this little scheme. You're right, they'll have someone, at least one, there to identify you. If they're smart, they'll have someone else watching to be sure you actually head back here, not off to London or elsewhere."

This could get interesting; she was glad she'd put a few things in motion before she'd left home. Now, she turned to Actor, explained what needed to be done, and he nodded, jotting down notes. After clarifying a point or two, he made his way to the possibly, probably tapped phone and made a call to 'my dear Margaret', carefully checking off each point as he relayed the coded message. Meghada listened, nodding as he hung up.

"That should do it. We'll have watchers in place, back-up ready. Depending on how they play it, it could still get dicey, but at least we won't be alone for long."

The team left for the job about 2 am, Meghada staying in the darkened farmhouse. Garrison had wanted to leave one man with her, and while it would have been helpful to have someone share the watch, the ones they were involved with were expecting the full five man team to be in town. The risk of putting them on their guard was just too great. She convinced him she, well she and Sybil, would be fine on their own.

She moved in the shadows, staying close to the walls, away from the windows, peering only from the crack in the curtains in each of the upstairs rooms. She went over the plan for the bank job in her head, listening as the clock downstairs chimed each hour, each half-hour. {"They're inside by now, Casino working the safe, Goniff, Actor and Garrison handling the boxes, Chief standing guard."}

Time passed. {"They should be finishing up, heading out. No sign of any activity; maybe I was wrong, maybe they AREN'T going to have a crew here to meet them when they get back."}

That thought had just crossed her mind when she saw the car, no lights, making its way up that road.

"They'll ruin their car that way considering how deep some of those holes are," she remarked to Sybil, and sure enough, the vehicle gave a sudden lurch. She watched in some grim amusement as four men poured out, and with great difficulty managed to get the car out of its tilted position, and moving forward, though the poor vehicle now exhibiting a decided limp. It pulled behind a low shed about a hundred yards away from the house, and the men headed in.

She waited, now concealed by more than shadows, tucked deep in that little hidden stairway at the end of the upstairs hall. It was tempting to take them now, get them out of the picture before the guys got back, but if this was really a triple-cross, they'd need some proof of that, some action on the part of the four men that validated that theory without any doubt.

{"And if it isn't, Kevin would probably get pissy about stray bodies, especially if any of them were from HQ."}.

She waited, not patiently perhaps, but she waited, knowing she was their ace in the hole if it all turned sour.

The man in town who'd described the 'bank robbers' to the local Constable had quietly been taken into custody by a grim-faced Alex Ainsley and two of his men, deputized into the role by Major Richards; just as Chief has suspected, he was the assistant manager at the bank, Lew Akers.

The other two men, Jack Crandall and Mikey Leads, had watched from their positions at each end of town til they were sure Garrison and the team really were headed back to the farmhouse. They joined another man, Corporal Banderman, although not in his usual uniform, who was waiting with the car.

"Told you they weren't smart enough for that. No, they're headed back, right to their little hideout, just waiting for us to come calling," Banderman laughed. They piled into their car and headed out; they weren't too worried about it being just the three of them against the five men back at the farmhouse. They had an ace in the hole, an armed and waiting ace in the hole; they were so sure of themselves, they forgot to be cautious, never even spotted the car parked along side the road close to the farm.

Jack Crandall spoke up, "shame, in a way. They could have been useful for a couple more jobs before we took them out."

Banderman just shook his head. "No, the boss was quite firm about that; one big haul, let them get the blame and finish it. Says they aren't too smart, but not so dumb they might not catch on and cause trouble later. The boss knows what he's doing; he's done this before, you know."

They were at the farm lane, had turned in, slowing to a crawl due to the ruts and potholes; the car, lights off, following far behind stopped, and the five men inside slipped out, making their careful way through the darkness, staying low as to be less visible against the horizon. Unlike Corporal Banderman, these men WERE in uniform, and the man in charge was wearing Major's insignia, though darkened so as not to reflect the light.

{"She was right about part of this; if she's right about the rest, there'll be hell to pay back at HQ! Bentley's one of the rising stars!"} Kevin Richards mused as he crept along.

Garrison and the team pulled up as if they'd just spent a few hours at the pub, joking with each other, clowning around. If it was a little forced, well, no one listening would have doubted the authenticity. The horses moved restlessly in the corral.

Next to Meghada, Sybil stirred, hearing the voices, looking up at Meghada as if asking why they weren't going to meet the one who'd given her that pretty new name. 'Sybil' - it was a lot different, softer, than her previous name 'Damn Dog', and she liked the man who'd given her that new name much better than she liked the harsh-voiced woman who'd given her the first one, the woman so ready with a broomstick or the slap of a hand.

She whined, just a little, and pressed against Meghada's knees. Meghada whispered, "shush, Sybil. We'll go, now, but stay with me." She listened as they moved silently down the stairs, and was at the bottom, her and Sybil hidden in the shadows as the guys poured through the door and flipped on the lights.

Garrison froze. "Bentley? What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were going to wait for my call. And who are these men?"

"I thought it best I come and provide backup; that gang could get quite nasty, you know. And you know it's best you have an unbiased witness should things get out of hand."

Garrison's face cleared, "yeah, that makes sense. They should be here in another couple of hours."

"You were successful, Lieutenant, in your endeavors?"

Casino barked a harsh laugh, "hell, yeah! Hey, Goniff, let's show em!" Casino and Goniff hoisted the burlap bags, pouring a steady stream of jewelry and other assorted goodies.

"And the payroll?"

"The Lieutenant 'as that," Goniff said, never raising his eyes from that shiny heap, not by so much as a flicker showing he'd spotted Meghada in the shadows.

Bentley frowned, "Lieutenant, you seem to be two men short. Where are they?"

Garrison shrugged, "Chief's trying to quiet down the horses; guess us driving in so late spooked them. Actor's parking the car out of sight." 

"Deacon, you know animals; go give this Chief a hand; we don't want anything out of the ordinary for when the others arrive. Clinton, keep a watch on the porch for Actor. We can only assume the gang will wait the full time before arriving; we'd hate to be surprised."

His smile was confident, steady - his eyes cold and watchful; Garrison thought he looked sort of like a shark. 

Chief had just gotten the horses quiet when a stranger came down the front steps and sauntered over to him.

"Bentley and Garrison told me to give you a hand, but looks like you got it covered," came out nice and friendly. Chief would have been happier if he could have seen the man's face more clearly, the pale moonlight not helping him much. It would have made him even more happy if he could have seen the man's hands, though he couldn't.

The sound of a car caught his attention, "quick, better get inside. They're early!"

The stranger protested, "no, it's too late for that. Back, out of sight. Let's see what's up before we go rushing in."

Chief let himself be guided to the deep shadows, knowing things were about to explode. If he could be absolutely sure this guy was on the wrong side, he'd have finished him then and there, but he wasn't. Explaining to the Warden why he'd knifed the wrong guy wouldn't be pretty.

Actor had finished putting the car out of sight, delaying going to the house, just as they had all agreed. Garrison had been blunt, "I'd like to have at least the two of you at their backs if they show up early and it turns in the wrong direction." He'd watched as a strange man had approached Chief, talked briefly and then disappeared, the both of them, at the sound of the car. Now, Actor waited in the shadows as well, for the next scene to start. 

"Lieutenant, we'd best stay out of sight for now. Go ahead with the plan; rest assured we'll make our presence known when the time is right."

Garrison had just nodded as Bentley and his one remaining man melted away up those wide steps. Damn, the uncertainty of this was getting to him, not knowing whether he had backup, or whether he and the guys were now caught in a cross-fire. A quick glance at Goniff got a slight nod in reply, and Garrison knew at least they had one ace in the hole - Meghada was here somewhere, and she wasn't someone to discount in a fight.

The car pulled up and three men got out, looked around carefully, and walked up the steps, to be greeted by a shadowy figure there. Actor knew it wasn't one of the team.

{"One with Chief, one on the porch. I wonder how many more inside."}. Staying on the far side of the yard, trying to stay out of sight of the man with Chief, Actor slipped closer.

Unfortunately, he HAD been seen, as evidenced by the man called Deacon deciding to press the issue. Chief saw the movement, started to go for his blade even as he dodged backwards. He wasn't quite quick enough, the other man's knife plunged deep into his shoulder, though missing the fatal blow he'd obviously been aiming for. As Chief stumbled backwards, fell, the already nervous horses panicked, the smell of blood only adding to their reaction. Deacon followed after Chief, intending to finish the job; the tall grey mare struck first, and Deacon went down hard. The others moved in, quick and harsh, and Deacon didn't move again.

Chief tried to stay from under their hooves, and oddly, it seemed to him they were trying just as hard to avoid trampling him. Just before he lost consciousness, he realized they'd formed a semi-circle around him, facing outwards. He spared just a moment to give thanks for that juggling lesson and those apples, and then he passed out.

Actor was at a side window, taking stock of the situation inside the house, when a rustle of sound, a flicker of movement from the side caught his attention. He turned to meet an attack, then let out a low sigh of relief, then an even lower whisper of greeting, "Major, it's good to see you. It looks like it is going down, though I still can't tell if your Lieutenant Bentley is on the side of the angels or not."

Richards refrained from giving the loud snort that comment just cried out for. From where he was sitting, NO ONE in this whole escapade could be called an 'angel'.

"You are out here alone?"

That got a worried frown, "Chief was at the corral, but one of the new men joined him. Something may have gone wrong there."

"Well, we don't have time to check right now. It looks tense in there," he started to say, when all hell broke loose inside. Wild barking, a shot, then more shots, and the men on the porch broke through the door into a scene of total mayhem.

It had taken Goniff and Casino working together to convince the horses to move from their protective stance around the fallen Chief. The other man they didn't spare any time for, other than to make sure he was dead. Well, that wasn't in question; his head, along with other portions of his body, was oddly flat for someone who WASN'T. They carried Chief inside, where he would join the ones being patched up. They included Garrison, of course; sometimes Meghada was sure the guys were right, that their leader could get banged up at a church social. Tonight, though, he'd only taken a bullet graze to his upper arm, much better than his usual record.

Goniff had escaped injury but was fretting over Sybil, who'd taken a bullet to her shoulder, and it was a toss-up who was more upset about it, the dog or the Englishman. As far as Casino could tell, Sybil was more concerned with comforting the small man, licking his face repeatedly, issuing small urgent whines, than with her own wound.

Richards was holding a bloody cloth to the side of his forehead, wincing as he did so. As much as his head hurt, he knew they'd been lucky. Damage to their side, yes, certainly. But proof positive that Lieutenant Bentley and Corporal Banderman, along with associates Deacon, Clinton, and Beaker had been running their own for-profit operations, along with their regular jobs up at HQ. Surely they had enough problems what with the war without such free-enterprise endeavors! The 'gang' Bentley had assigned Garrison and his men to entrap - Lew Akers, Jack Crandell and Mickey Leads - well, they were no angels, either. Lew Akers had betrayed the trust of his employers and the people of the surrounding communities, the other two in it for the excitement and the payoff. 

Well, three of them were now dead, the rest in handcuffs in a back bedroom, except for Akers who was under arrest in town. Richards and Garrison had both become weary of Bentley protesting his innocence, trying to make out it was 'Garrison and his thugs' who were the real culprits. They'd become weary of his voice, and more than a little apprehensive at that deepening snarl on Meghada's face. She was now deeply involved, along with Actor, in patching up the wounded among them. There were a few wounded in that back bedroom, though when one of Richards' men had started a voluntary triage effort, trying to tell her who should be next for treatment, he'd gotten snapped at for putting any of those men ahead of any in this room, ahead of the dog too.

"When bloody fluxing pigs fly! They'll get tended to when everyone in HERE is done, INCLUDING Sybil! Move the hell out of my way!!"

Yes, while Richards truly DID see her point - the dog had sprung for Banderman just as he'd sighted his revolver squarely on Garrison's pickpocket - there was nothing subtle about that response. Sometimes he despaired of ever seeing anything even approaching subtle in her responses. 

It was over, leaving only one area for concern.

"But, we can't just leave them 'ere, Warden! Who's gonna take care of them?"

Garrison tried to reassure his pickpocket. "Goniff, the owner will be back now that this is all over. He'll take care of them." He could tell that answer wasn't going to be good enough for Goniff, and the other guys seemed to agree.

With a reluctant clearing of his throat, the local constable informed them, "well, no, he won't. Be back, I mean. Seems he met a widow over there in Bath, the one that owns the guest houses he was staying at; old Homer knows a lot about repairs and such, and her place has a need for such, and they've struck a bargain. Bout that and a lot else. Seems they've already tied the knot!"

"And what about this place, and the horses, the dog?" Garrison asked, dreading the answer. He knew what the Sergeant Major would say, what the Stately Homes people would say if he showed up with the big she-dog, much less six horses.

"Says they weren't his in the first place. Hadn't kept horses for at least two years, and buried his last dog a year ago. Seems those who set this up thought having some livestock around would make it all seem more realistic, like. Don't know where they dredged them up, sorry looking beasts that they are. Not to worry, though. The knackerman will be around for the horses, soon enough. I can put the dog down myself, if you'd prefer."

The loud squawk from Goniff was immediately followed with protests from everyone else.

"That won't be necessary, Constable. I'll have them removed or dealt with myself; I'll stay til it's taken care of," Meghada spoke up, firmly in control. There was no way the knackerman was taking the horses, and as for Sybil, well!!!

Goniff's eyes were wildly hopeful, "really, 'Gaida? You can see to them?"

And she smiled into those hazy blue eyes, "of course, laddie. It's heroes they are, every last one of them. I'll see they're treated right."

Garrison took time, before they left, "Meghada, I appreciate this. I couldn't think of anything that wouldn't have given Gil a stroke!"

She laughed, "aye, well, I can see that. The poor man has more than enough on his plate as it is. Don't worry, Lieutenant; it will be fine."

And it was. The horses stayed on the little farm, cared for by one Duncan James, a retired professor who'd grown up in just such an out-of-the-way place and had always wanted to return someday; he had a book he was writing, and he wanted a place where people wouldn't be always dropping in. He'd even chuckled over that disaster of a road! A long-time Friend to the Clan, he'd been quite willing to take on the responsibility of the horses, though he refused to accept the land as a gift in return for that responsibility, insisting on repaying Meghada for the very modest sum the previous owner had wanted for it. Oddly enough, or maybe not, the previous owner had no connection whatsoever to Bentley or Bentley's wife, just someone who owned an out-of-the way bit of property in the right location, along with the reputation of not wanting anyone else around.

The big she-dog, she was a different story. Duncan was a cat person, through and through, and his collection of several assorted types was unlikely to tolerate one in the same house. But that wasn't a problem.

"Can't thank you all enough, you know. I lost my Boomer a few years ago, and never had the heart to get another dog; never though I would. Still, when the O'Donnell lass brought me Sybil, I knew she was meant for me," the beaming Mrs. Wilson had told them all. "When I heard her story, it just didn't seem right to turn away a heroine like she was. Sleeps on my rug, right beside my bed. You're welcome to visit her, anytime; the lass said you'd gotten to be right good friends!"


End file.
